


What's Left of Me

by prototyping



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Friendship, Gen, another "music" prompt, platonic, quick fic, why yes i do hate myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7393057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He might sleep for all eternity, but that won't keep her away.</p>
<p>Aqua + Ventus, AU in which she doesn’t end up in the Realm of Darkness right away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Left of Me

As always, nothing had changed.

The sky was still dark -- day never came here, not anymore -- and the castle was still unfamiliar, twisted and tall and foreboding.

As always, nothing stopped Aqua from entering. The front door wasn’t locked, but that was unnecessary. The inside was still a blinding, depressing white -- not the white of light, of warmth and positivity, but the white of emptiness and absence of everything both good and bad. It was truly neutral ground now.

As always, the interior was eerily silent except for her echoing footsteps. Nothing and nobody greeted her -- just door after door as she made her way through the familiar yet unfamiliar halls. From the entrance it was less than a minute’s trek to the room she was looking for, but it always felt longer than that.

As always, she opened the door to a disappointing silence. As always, she picked up the pace as she entered, rounding the single chair with a desperate hope -- and as always, she found him in the same position she’d last left him. Back against the throne, head hanging towards his chest, hands in his lap, and breathing lightly. Still sleeping.

Aqua was never surprised, but she was always disappointed.

“Hey, Ven,” she murmured. There was no need to keep her voice down -- on the contrary, if she thought it would wake him, she would scream if she had to -- but hearing her words echoed back at her by the empty space was always unsettling and depressing. Leaning over, she stroked his hair with a sad frown; when she spoke again, she forced herself to smile so that her tone would come off at least a little cheerful. “Mickey says hello. He’s pretty busy back home, but he promises he’ll visit soon.”

Not that there was much to see. She kept Mickey and Yen Sid updated on her exploits, such as they were, as well as Ven’s condition, but nothing had changed in the last six months. There had been no progress on either his or her behalf.

Ven, unsurprisingly, didn’t respond. She didn’t know if he could hear her or whether he was even aware of her presence, but on even the smallest chance that he was, she wouldn’t ignore him. She stopped by here every week -- several times, if she could help it -- to update him as well, although she never went as in-depth as she did with the others.

She didn’t tell him that Terra was still lost. She didn’t admit that months of searching had turned up nothing. She didn’t burden him with how tired she was, how many sleepless nights she’d had regardless.

She kept the negativity to herself and always smiled.

With a short sigh she sat down at his feet, as usual, her back against the throne. As much as she disliked it, for a moment she took in the unnatural silence. This was what kept Ven company every single day -- and in a way it was wrong, because he would hate this boring, quiet solitude. It wasn’t the first time Aqua felt guilty for leaving him here, but it remained the safest place she could think of. Until he woke -- one day, someday -- this was the best place for him to be, she was certain. She could apologize for it later.

“I heard you ended up going to Disney Town,” she said with a faint smile, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I don’t know if you visited the castle, but that’s where Mickey’s from. Queen Minnie? She’s his wife.” She chuckled lightly. It felt strange. “They want us to visit again one day. Together. All three of--” She stopped, her expression fading. With a quick glance over her shoulder she scanned Ven’s face, as if expecting that breach of subject alone to stir him from his slumber -- but he remained unchanged, still but for the light rise and fall of his chest.

Aqua turned away, sighing again. What if Ven _did_ wake soon? Did she really think she could go on hiding the truth from him? Would she push him away again? Isolate him under the excuse that it was for his own safety? That was one of many mistakes that had led to this mess, but she couldn’t say for certain that she wouldn’t make it again. She had already lost Terra and their Master, their home, and that strain weighed down on her every single day, in every waking moment. When her efforts proved fruitless and everything seemed set against her, there was always the comforting reminder that she still had Ven to return to.

If she lost him, too, that might break her completely.

“...But that’s my problem, not yours,” she whispered. She couldn’t coddle him forever, least of all for the sake of her own tender heart. If they were the only ones left, especially--

_No. Terra’s alive somewhere. I’d know if he wasn’t._ Fingers tightening on her sleeves, Aqua dropped her head onto her arms and stayed like that for a while. Not really thinking, just collecting herself. Two, ten, thirty minutes, she had no idea. Time, if Ven was any indication, seemed to have forgotten this place.

When she finally raised her head again, Aqua had to blink against the stark white walls, her eyes straining against the bright color. Glancing up at Ven again, she gave a defeated hum. “I’m sorry, Ven. I’m supposed to come here to cheer you up, but… I think I’m waiting for somebody to do the same for me.” And that just wasn’t a convenience she had at the moment.

Shifting onto her knees, Aqua turned to set her elbows on the throne beside him and studied him for a few moments. When she smiled again, it was a sad look. “You know… if you _can_ hear me, it must be frustrating. I never have any good news. I never have _any_ news, and I know…” She hesitated. “...I know you’re worried about Terra. And I’m sorry I can’t tell you anything yet. But I’m still looking.” Slowly, as if afraid he might pull away, she reached for his hand. When her fingers brushed his, she found them warm. She covered his hand and held tight. “I haven’t stopped, Ven. I won’t. Not until we’re together again.”

No response. His face remained slack, his breathing even, his fingers limp. Unsurprising, but no less heartbreaking.

Aqua remained for a while. Sometimes talking, sometimes listening to his small breaths. Her knees ached against the hard marble, but she stayed where she was until she could think of no more to say -- and even then she remained a while longer.

But as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stay with Ven forever. So she gave his fingers a gentle squeeze as she smiled up at him. “Hey… I’m gonna have to leave again for a little while, okay? But I’ll be back soon, I promise.” She thought his head might have dipped a little lower than usual on his next exhale -- but she was tired, and the white room played tricks on her vision enough when she was wide awake. She’d had too much false hope recently to even entertain the idea that it might have met something.

Despite her remark, however, Aqua didn’t rise. She was always reluctant to leave him; after what happened half a year ago, she couldn’t disregard the possibility that this visit might be her last. She wasn’t sure why, but it was a heavy, foreboding feeling that she could never shake. That was why she always ended her visit with something encouraging, something hopeful, something she prayed he would take to heart and remember if he did end up alone.

But this time, she couldn’t think of anything. Nothing came to mind. When she tried to search her heart for words, she only found it raw and aching, as though something had clawed and scraped out the contents to leave it wounded and hollow.

She couldn’t think of anything here and now. She didn’t want to think about the future. So she let her thoughts drift to the past again -- something she tried to avoid when possible, because even the good memories could bring discouragement as often as they did hope.

Seemingly unguided, her mind settled on one memory in particular: on a night years before, not long after Ven had first come to their world. Quiet, dazed, and easily overwhelmed, he spent his first few weeks with them simply adjusting to basic things like sights and sounds. Unsurprisingly, his first thunderstorm had reduced him to a trembling ball beneath his sheets; Aqua ended up pulling him into her room, warding the windows with a sound-dampening spell, and talking to him to try and soothe his nerves until he fell asleep.

Well, she’d talked a little, but when that proved inadequate at holding his attention, she’d had to improvise -- and with nothing else coming to mind, she’d started to sing. Simple lullabies, half of them to tunes she’d made up because the books of her youth provided no sheet music. It had worked.

Thinking back on all that now, Aqua didn’t overlook the irony. She kept her hold on Ven’s hand and bowed her head, remembering how terrified he’d been of the unknown that night. Was he like that now? Did he doubt her ability to protect him? Was he as scared as she was?

Those thoughts made her throat tighten. She wanted to reassure him, to give more promises that she _knew_ in her heart of hearts that she couldn’t guarantee, but it would have felt emptier than the silence around them did. No other words seemed appropriate, either.

But maybe, just like back then, words weren’t what Ven needed. Maybe the best thing to give him… was the simple reminder that she was here.

Aqua’s lips parted. She searched her memory again, but while she could have listed a dozen lullabies any other day, for some reason only one was coming to mind at the moment. It had been a long time -- she wasn’t sure she could remember her improvised tune -- but after a few seconds she pushed those little cares away.

And, quietly, began to sing.

_“I watch you… fast asleep…”_

Her voice was shaky, a little too deep with suppressed sorrow, but she breathed in slowly and kept going.

_“All I fear… means nothing… In you and I, there’s a new land -- angels in flight -- my sanctuary, my sanctuary -- where fears and lies... ”_

Her voice hitched. Her eyes stung. She tried to keep going, but all that came out was a small, choked squeak. That was when months of emotional and physical fatigue finally caught up with her -- the stress of missing her family, of living day-to-day with the crushing sense of continuing to fail them -- all of it.

And it hurt more than she would have imagined.

Burying her face in Ven’s knees, Aqua slumped against him as her shoulders began to shake -- lightly, and then harder, until her silent sobs had both of them trembling.

As always, everything else remained still and silent, deaf to her misery.

**Author's Note:**

> okay but it's like twenty times sadder if you picture the after the battle version


End file.
